What it Takes to be Mom
by Yumi T
Summary: Darien Shield's wife Raye has cheated on him, and the only way he and his daughter Michiko can find happiness again may be with the help of Michiko's reserved ballet teacher Serena...but does she have what it takes to be Mom?
1. She Loves Me Not

**What it Takes to be Mom**

A non-season, non-manga, non-even-vaguely-relating-to-real-story-line story by yours truly. Hope you enjoy!

BTW: If my story is in any way similar to any of the others you have read/written, please tell me immediately!!! I have no wish to plagiarize anyone's story, or use any ideas that don't belong to me. Thank you!

Yumi T.

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**Chapter One-Tears of the Heart**

"Daddy Daddy Daddy!"

The insistent cries of the small child brought a smile to the lips of the dark-haired man. He obligingly set down the bags in his arms, and handed the ring of keys over to the raven-haired child, who promptly dropped them, then upon retrieving them, jammed the wrong one into the lock. Laughing, the man picked the correct key, and the door swung open. It hit the wall with a bang, as a couple embracing in the hall came into view. The woman froze, then slowly turned around. Her face was flushed, and a peculiar smell wafted out of the apartment into the man's face. His nose wrinkled slightly as he took in the smell, the state of their clothing, and the looks on the couple's faces. His eyes shut tightly for a second, and when they opened once more, they were as dark sapphire bits of glass. He stared at his wife, and the man standing next to her.

"Raye." The dark-haired man acknowledged.

"Jason." He did not even look at the blonde-haired man, but continued to stare at his wife.

There was no warmth in his voice, and his daughter, hidden behind his leg, stared up at the man who did not act or sound like her beloved father. Why had he and her mother not hugged and kissed yet. Why was her mother not looking at her father anymore, and why was she hugging some other man. The facts refused to add up in her young mind, and she clutched all the harder to the jean-clad pants leg.

"Darien."

Raye's voice was little more then a whisper, and trembled slightly. She brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, and Darien noticed the lack of wedding ring on her finger. Still, she stood straight, and there was a hint of fire in her eyes. Darien had loved that fire.

Before.

"Were you going to tell me?" He was now staring down at their daughter, lazily twirling strands of black silk through his fingers, smoothing her bangs. _He wasn't sure, he was jumping to conclusions, everything was perfect and fine, there was no problem, nothing had happened, she…_

"Yes." Her voice was still quiet.

…_had admitted it…_

His shoulders stiffened, and the fingers on his daughter's shoulder tensed and she whimpered in fear. She stared up at him and he gazed down at her, sorrow lining his face.

"Perhaps it is a little late for that now. I think it would be in all of our best interests if you gathered your things and stayed somewhere else. We can discuss this later." His voice was far too calm for the speed his mind was racing at, but it would only hurt everyone more for him to react in front of their…his daughter.

Raye nodded jerkily, and ran off back into their bedroom. Darien's eyes finally raised and he watched her form disappear. The silence in the room became deafening. Jason cleared his throat, a loud rasping sound. Darien's eyes slowly crossed to him, regarded him dully for a moment, and then returned to his daughter.

"Look, Darien. You knew that things weren't going well between you two, and you woul-"

He never even saw Darien move. Suddenly his head smashed against the wall, and Darien's grip tightened slightly around his throat.

"Jason!" screamed Raye, who, emerging from the room with a bag, immediately ran over and began beating Darien's arm. He dropped Jason to the floor, and turned slowly to walk to the door.

"Leave." His eyes stared above their heads, seeing things they could not, and thinking things they couldn't imagine. Raye moved Jason through the door, then stooped to hug the small child good-bye.

"Don't touch her."

Raye froze, and then shot up.

"She is my daughter too, don't you dare try to take her away from me!"

Darien finally looked at her, and Raye shrank back from the rage that smoldered in his eyes.

"Do not touch her. Do not talk to her. Just. Leave." Raye looked down at her daughter, who edged further back behind her father, eyes glistening with tears. Raye stifled a sob, and ran out into the hall. Jason took her hand, and they jogged down the hallway and around a corner. Once they were out of sight, Darien slowly shut the door, then sunk down to the floor with his arms around his head and began to sob. His daughter slid next to him and was pulled in, cradled in his arms, their tears mixing together.

The next morning, breakfast was a quiet affair. Darien decided that Saturday morning cartoons would be a little inappropriate, so breakfast was eaten in silence. His daughter glanced at him in between bites of cereal, searching for the broken man she had seen the night before in this soundless shell of a man. Prominent bags lay under his eyes, and he moved slowly, as if he were an old man. She had snuck into his room the night before, only to find him staring up at the ceiling, hand absent-mindedly stroking the sheets where her mother would have lain. She closed the door very quietly, and had tiptoed back to her own room. Though she still wasn't sure what had happened, what her mother had done must have been pretty bad, and she had a feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.

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First chapter done! 

Please review and tell me if I should continue it. It is my first story and I'd like to hear from you guys whether it is even worth it to post the rest

Many thanks, hope to hear from some of you soon!


	2. Thursday at Three

Here we go again...

Thank you so much to all of you wonderful reviewers! I now know howgreat it is to receive them! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the last, and thank you again for such prompt resonses, and for saying such nice things

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**Chapter Two-Thursday at Three**

The days passed uneventfully, with no sign of the former Raye Shields. Her father had begun to talk again, but she had not seen him laugh or smile since the day it had happened. She showed him her pictures from school, and the wonderful grades she had gotten, but other then a stroking of her head, or a "Good job Michiko–chan." He remained in his own world. So it was with great trepidation that she approached his office the week after it had happened. He sat there, glaring tiredly at a stack of paper, idly twisting a pencil in his hands. "Daddy?" He gave no response.

She cleared her throat and repeated it a little louder. His head jerked up, as if he had been asleep, and she stared at him in concern.

"Daddy, are you alright?" she questioned, running over to him and crawling into his lap.

He nodded slightly, and gave a ghost of a smile.

"I will be sweetheart. Things have just not been…going that well lately." He looked towards the large window of his office.

"Daddy?" Michiko questioned, hesitantly.

"Yes sweetheart?"

"What,…what did Mommy do?"

She heard a sharp intake of breath, and looked up into her father's pained eyes. Immediately she scolded herself for asking the question. His eyelids dropped slightly, and his voice was careful when he replied.

"Mo-, Raye did something very, very bad Michiko. I am not happy with her right now. What she has done wouldn't make much sense to you right now though. I know that this will be hard sweetheart, but you are going to have to wait until you are older before I can tell you." He turned back to his paperwork, his posture rigid. She nodded slowly, realizing the subject had come to an obvious close.

Darien gave a small start, as if realizing that she had come there for a reason.

"What do you need Michiko-chan?" She looked back up at him, her voice small.

"It's my practice today Daddy, I need you to take me."

He stared at her blankly.

"My ballet class Daddy. It's every Thursday at 3:00. I need you to take me."

"Oh, of course. Of course. Let me just put these away and we can go." She scrambled off his lap, and ran to get her bag. Darien stood up slowly, gazing out the window. New York bustled blissfully around them, unaware of the pain smothering their family. Miniature people scurried back and forth across the sidewalk, heading towards their destinations, none of them looking up to see the sad, lonely man standing at his window.

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Another chapter is complete!!! Victory dance 

talk to you all later!

-Yumi out


	3. PrettyLady Teacher

Hey again everyone! Sorry for the long wait, I've had a lot of stuff going on, and then the wonderful dilemma of knowing how to end the story, but not how to get there. Well, here we go, latest chapter, hopefully to be added to soon!

Chapter Three: Pretty Lady Teacher

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Her steps were slow and measured as she made her way over to one of the large windows that were a part of her small dance studio. Though a little cramped, the smooth lines of the glossy hardwood floor and mirrors covering almost every wall lent an open-aired feeling to the room. With the afternoon sun shining gently in through the large skylights, it gave off an almost cathedral-like air. She ran a hand along one of the satin-smooth barres that hung across the walls, the only disruption between the floor and the ceiling. Her feet, clothed in thin slippers made no sound. Reaching the window, she rested one hand along the sill, and with the other, gently slid it open. A warm breeze flowed into the room, smelling faintly of autumn. Her eyes drifted over the liquid ambers outside the building that surrounded the parking lot, and slowly drifted off into the woods that were spread out behind her building. Their leaves had just begun to turn, and she could see droplets of gold and fire red begin to splash themselves across the wide leaves. She heard the sounds of cars driving up into the parking lot, and shut her eyes to prepare for the beginning of the class. She heard the front door open and shut a multitude of times, and small feet beginning their way up to the studio.

Cheerful laughter rang up the stairs, and small girls began to pour into the room, dashing to their cubbies and talking and giggling as they began to put on shoes or tighten skirts. Not turning from the window, she gave the ghost of a smile. She had always loved the Thursday class. Young girls ages six to nine, always smiling, always the ones who wanted to try the newest things. Turning slightly as they began to quiet down, her eyes drifted over them in a silent count. Michiko Shields was missing, she noticed with a small frown. The seven year-old had always been faithfully attendant to the class, albeit slightly tardy some of the times. The woman recalled the image of the child accompanied by a dashing raven-haired woman, who, though she seemed nice, always seemed to be rushing somewhere. She had never really thought about it, knowing it did not involve her. She heard the door open again, and turned to look at her tardy student, who was currently trying to pull a large dark-haired man into the classroom. He looked sheepish, and was doing his best to shoo what she supposed was his daughter into the room without him. She glided over to them, grasping the door and opening it completely, which brought the dark-haired man tumbling into the room. On top of her. She heard a small gasp, then Michiko burst out into laughter, the giggles of the other girls slowly rising in volume as well. Flaming red, the woman slid herself out from under the tall man, and rose, brushing her skirt off and tugging her shirt down. The man stood as well, and she found she was forced to look up at him, something vaguely foreign to her. His eyes were sad and he began apologizing profusely, and bowing, apparently without realizing it. A thin eyebrow arched and she looked down on him with an expression bordering amusement. Michiko flew past her and tugged on the man's arm.

"Daaadddddyyyyyy!"

The blonde woman tilted her head. So this was the ever-mysterious Darien Shields. His name had appeared on the checks when Michiko had begun her class, but she had yet to have gotten a glimpse of the man. Good. Now there was a face to attach to the name. This fact pleased her immensely, and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"It's quite alright, Mr. Shields. I should have realized you did not have your balance. Michiko is really very strong."

He slowly raised himself back up, and stared down at her.

"You are the teacher?" His voice rumbled around the room pleasantly. She inclined her head gracefully, and lifted her hand to shake his.

He could not believe what happened. Not only had Michiko kept the entire class up, just so she could introduce him to her "Pretty-Lady" teacher, but now he had probably _landed _on that teacher. He hoped desperately she hadn't been crushed. Standing at 6' 5", he was used to towering over most people a room. He was ridiculously tall, even for an American. With a flicker of surprise, he realized she was only five or six inches shorter then he. A faint thought passed through his mind, and he wondered how easily she would fit under his chin. His mind jerked him back to reality when he realized she was talking.

"-meet you."

"A pleasure." He replied, hoping he had answered correctly. From her lack of reaction, he supposed he had guessed right. A tug on his hand brought him back down to his daughter's level. He smiled and brushed her cheek with his the back of his hand.

"You be a good girl today all right sweetheart?" At her quick nod he rose again.

The teacher was still standing there, waiting for him to leave he supposed. Her posture was very rigidly straight, but she pulled it off with grace. Her head inclined once more, then placing her hand on the back of his daughter's head, she gently steered her towards the rest of the girls. Recognizing the delicate dismissal, Darien took a step back and made his way out through the doors.

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and...done! Hope to be back soon, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review, it really means a lot to me.

-Yumi T.


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